


A town of bad omen

by XiaoHu



Series: Blue's Soceity [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Comedy, Crack?, Horror, M/M, Retro, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-11 05:49:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15965993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XiaoHu/pseuds/XiaoHu
Summary: Scattered around Arkerville awaits anonymous casettes that, heavy with the content of the town’s mystery, cannot be left to anyone else but a group of fearless, bruised knee teenagers.(NCT Retro Mystery AU)





	A town of bad omen

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer  
> \- I rewrote this for better naration!! that may be why youre maybe seeing this again  
> \- English is not my first language! So don’t hesitate to point out!  
> \- I usually proof read, but guess what.  
> \- bad humor ahead  
> \- I tried to be funny  
> \- i actually made some long ass research about the geography, forest density, native and crow people, scout and school system of the USA... please read this
> 
> To clarify: There are two school in Arkerville. Jisung and Chenle (and Yangyang) who are undeniable geniuses are in Arker High, prestigious, situated in the outskirts of the town. The other one is a public one, thats where Mark, Lucas, Renjun, Jeno, Haechan are. (And others to be revealed). Hyung line and other have graduated and will come in to help the boys uncover the confusing mystery they've been handed!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When his best friend get jinxed into the mysteries that engulf the town, Mark knows that he has to do something. But he doesn't know where to start, or what to do exactly.
> 
> Then, he gets a call with two rushed voice telling him to meet up, because there's a secret society, a curse upon the town, the dam is cracking, oh, and people with telekinetic capabilities drowned in the kalaaxtá lake.

It’s somewhere between the midday and the afternoon, where somehow Mark can’t follow the teacher’s lecturing, words falling one after the other, disconnected, that it happens.

Every sound muffled as if underwater, yet unknown words and incoherent sentences from afar come to him, (or just from the long, infinite corridor by the classroom).

Every sound resonating, singing.

Eyelids heavy, and then heavier at every breath. Drunken, dripping with sleep. Body unconscious and mind wandering, Mark's thoughts track come at a stop at some old rusty picture. Hanging on his room’s door, it illustrates one of those epic, hour-long summertime days. Tales of scout boys and bleeding knees, friendship.

It’s tradition. It illustrates his many summers into one, allegorical picture. It’s all in one, forever old, just the same every time.

It’s him, Haechan, Jeno, and Renjun. The _original three_ and _the sidekick_ , all wearing their colors, and, good gold times in the vacation sun, he thinks. But where and when did it turn, not wrong yet, but different?

Even if this town is full of unfortunate events; the drowned boy, the cracking dam, the ominous crows and lost dogs. And too many slipping cars by the forest hill. Even though this  
town is full of bad omen (all over it, hiding in the forest and jumping from under, coming together in a flock of crows), there are the good times he spent in it, hanging on his bedroom door.

The clothes enveloping him suddenly feel aware, and he thinks that it’s because of the school that he has spent memorable time: he had met Renjun and Jeno there. From here to the boys' scout, even if there is the town in between and in under, some things are good.

Even if every year someone drowns, this time, it didn’t happen.

And then just as his thoughts were ending in a hopeful picture, a voice breaks the disordered silence.

“ _It is true…_ ” A voice, familiar and sticky sweet dripped and nasal. It trails, “ _It is true that…_ ”

A ghost, but it doesn't last, disappears like fog from its brain and there’s another sound there, replacing it as if it just killed it. The voice is changed, It shifts from inside his brain between each of his neurons to the school mic over the board. It goes from familiar and warm to cold and unknown.

“ _Message from Saturn._ ”

Mark looks up.

Surprised, confused and aware. He still can’t hear the teacher, but the mature and drowned voice is piercing yet cracking from the mic.

It urgently says:  
“ _Don’t listen to blue’s society._ ” A pause. “ _They see you and will make you believe that you need them_ ”

The voice stop and the message end. The teacher is back by the board. Mark is left staring at the school speaker, the professor's voice replacing the furtive cry, now loud and clear against his temple.

And the most awake he’s been since a while.

 

 

•

 

 

Taking a step forward, Haechan almost falls down because of the uneven concrete. (Taking the strap of his backpack into his palms,) he looks around. School had just finished, but he took too much time getting out. The space is deserted, Mark must have assumed he didn’t wait for him and went on home.

Head down and hands fiddling on his backpack straps, almost like a lonely child, Haechan hops around the long road before the burned house, and walks down up to the bus stop turn. Many tree branches fly over him and he can’t hear any birds chirping.

He hates walking home alone.

The sun is a little wearier that yesterday, and Haechan think it’s winter shadowing over with the charming disguise of autumn. The summer sun was much more fuller and gave him and his friend the willpower to run across the whole of the town.

  
To run across the town, and color it with their summer memories and laughs. The genesis of their adventure starts with the first summer at camp. It’s him telling jokes at campfire, Jeno putting up with his pranks with a polite smile. And Mark, being the open book he is. Readable and expectable. Yet it’s a slight surprise, when new eagle scout Renjun tells him by the green swamps next summer, that he’s being hard with Mark.

‘He’s a little sensitive at heart’ the Chinese newbie tells. And it’s true, Mark is always doing his best, earning the most pins and compliments, big boy and leader (strong lion), it’s almost as if he doesn't need them and could jump into being their scoutmaster. But Haechan is always making things harder for him.

Then it’s mark who tell him by the end of the summer that follows, a summer they were stuck together like the astro twins. “I almost quit because of you,” he says, and Haechan nods knowingly, _I know_ he says. They grow up each year, a fast race of heights, which imprevisiblity is broken when Jisung joins and with him, then, It’s campfire stories with ghosts and cracking leaves; memorable like each year.

But this time, summer wasn’t something to be remembered. It’s full of guilt and remorse. Haechan wants to bury it in his backyard and under his pillow when the memories come back late at night. He wants to strangle it and make it quiet, just like it is doing to him.

A murder of crow breaks his black thoughts. Haechan’s eyes, surprise and round follow them. Their horrible singing sounds like cunning laughs. Stops by the bus and step into the car, still following the flock of black winged omen through the bus glasses. His hair swings as the bus go on, but he who has been engulfed by mere birds, stays still and thoughtful, almost dysphemistic. Gaze sliding farther and farther, closer to the horizon with them, the crows.

This year, no one died. And it is a bad omen of its own.

 

  

•

 

 

 

At some point after class, some ten minutes into baseball training, Mark assumed today wasn’t his best day. Concentration lost between the lockers and the training ground, he can’t seem to find his reflexes, putting his mind to full concentration just to merely blink.

“Ever seen a roadkill?” A voice, Lucas’, brings him to reality. He slowly turns to the voice, so aware of his own heavy eyes, threatening to fall down. “That’s exactly what you look like now.” So heavy, bulk weight, but his eyes still roll at the tower peering over him. He silently sighs. Lucas observes him for a brief second before starting again. “Dude you should really have a day off, for once,”  snickers behind him again. Nonetheless, his tone is a little serious, and concerned, maybe.

  
It’s the break, so Mark gave himself the privilege of sitting on the bench that’s flown over with the dot cut tree shadow.

This time, sliding down next to him, Lucas' voice is deeper and surprisingly softer, less annoying. “What’s wrong?”

Mark sighs, his head hurts. He turns the sole of his sneakers on the concrete, cracking the dirt and stray rocks against it. The sound somehow resembles how he feels at the moment.

“Lucas, tell me sincerely.” He begins, and silence falls as Lucas is eager to listen. Hesitates. But he already engaged the conversation so he can’t backtrack now.

“You know, the rumors about the drownings in _kalaaxtá lake_?”

Mark doesn't dare glance at his friend. He knows he other is staring at him, so he just looks at the front, the view of the baseball field drowning in the sun.

“What drownings?” Mark realize that aside from sports, Lucas doesn’t pay attention to anything else, much less to rumors. The fellow senior is obsessed with _Arker higher education system_ , and he absolutely wants to get in through a sports scholarship.

“Well, the lake by the west hills.” Says, then wait for a sign (nod) for Lucas confirming he’s following him. “You remember last year, when that old man’s car slipped into it.”

“Yeah, everyone talked about it. The whole city, how wouldn’t I know?” _Because you never pay attention to rumors._

“Well, there's a rumor that every year someone dies by drowning in the lake.”

Silence comes back. “So what about it dude?”

“Well, the year before that they found clothes. And my neighbor’s aunt’s dog drowned there, too!” Mark pauses, taking a deep breath. “And this year-”

“Dude, what if they found clothes? Did someone drown? It could be some storm or some prank, anything? And the old man was suicidal. They told us that it was a suicide.”

“Yeah…” feeling like he was right, but didn't want to say so.

“And the poor dog, we can’t save all drowning dogs can we?” Lucas’ voice is loud and has a lean foundation, he’s sure of what he’s saying. “it’s unfortunate, poor thing man. But tragedies happen”

Continues, “It’s all about this summer right?”

When Mark’s mouth align into a thin thread, almost ashamed, Lucas sighs: “Look, brother, stop stressing over this summer. It happens. And that doesn’t mean we’re under some curse or the sort. Let’s try and not think about those a headache-inducing rumors. Don’t worry! Be happy man.” slap his shoulder. His confident tone would be comforting, but it fails, barely vibrating through Mark’s ears.

“Mark, you are way more intelligent than that okay?” Lucas looks at Mark, who’s busy processing his scattered thoughts, and being swayed left side right by the stronger arm around him. “at least more than me!” then just like this, the conversation finds an end.

Mark feels unfulfilled. Maybe he spilled his thoughts to the wrong person. Lucas is never the type to believe in rumors, curse, and paranormal stories. Everything that has a fragile or ephemeral foundation (rumors and legend, etc) is overlooked by the baseball ace. It’s not that he’s a scientist, he thinks without deviance and sees things as they are. He has a simple way to think and live.

Mark wanted to think that his friend was right, but the problem he was facing had something more to it. Mark was restless, as if he was the only hearing the silence before the trumpet.

 

 

 

•

 

 

“Can I stay over?”

Haechan is standing in his front porch, a small bag clutched in his right hand, probably sheltering some spare clothes. Mark surprised to see him suddenly in a period such as barely the first to third week of school. But he’s there, breathing a little heavy, and left hand trembling shyly behind his shorts. Mark can still see them, but doesn’t say anything.

“Of course,” he complies, opens the door.

Even if the sudden stay over was sudden, and Haechan’s urgent voice, clear against the wood of his door raised questions in Mark's mind, he didn’t say anything. And maybe that is why Haechan came to him, because he seems to always know when not to ask questions. Because he never asks questions, and welcome him in the feverish contest for first place in one of the many undiscussed games they battle ever since they put eyes on each other, _Nct Kart_.

Mark, however, is not as good when it comes to video games as Haechan.

“Not everything has to be a competition, Haechan!” He cries but to no avail, angrily pushing the buttons of the poor controler, even more harder.

Haechan lets out a triumphant laugh, annoying to Mark, as he crosses the arrival line, jumping as the game announces in an upbeat the end of the race.

“Why do you have to be so bad at this?” he turns to Mark, laughing loudly.

Mark can't help but let a smile draw at his lips at the sight of Haechan's laugh "Why do you have to feel so much pride for a mere game?”

“Ooh,” Haechan coos in an exaggerated song, “stinky, I smell a bad loser.” With the act, matches his flying hand dancing some imagined odor away.

Mark huffs, finds a little comfort in the cushion of the small sofa. From the second Floor where his room is, he can see the outside street. The closest light by the window is staggering.

“Anyways, this is getting old.” Haechan plumps next to him, but a contradicting smile still on his lips. For a brief moment, Mark can't help but stare. It seems like some times spent together never fails to heal Haechan from whatever moment he's going through. It's reassuring to Mark, not only to know he's doing a good job being a friend, but to be the only one a disheveled Haechan shows himself to, as selfish as it sound. It makes him feel so important, being the one to see Haechan so free and careless at this hour. Between those four walls, the playful Haechan was different from the malicious Haechan he meets outside. Mark doesn't know what it is, but the difference lies in how the corner of his lips turn, and somewhere under the tone of his voice. Mark stares.

"Are you listening?" Like a thief caught stealing, Mark nods, stands up and starts cleaning up. From behind him Haechan continues, unaware of Mark's burning ears. “I’ve become such an expert at this. Since when are we playing it?” Separate his sentence by plopping a round chocolate cherry in his mouth.

“Since it came out, like when we were twelve or something,” Mark says, eyeing the many marks adorning the cd as he shuts the game down, ending their session.

There is a picture that always hangs on the back of Mark’s room’s door. Still, Haechan is bored enough to stand up and look at it. “Oh well look that’s me!”

“Not only you, it’s us,” He says, not even eyeing Haechan who’s smiling at the four scout boys staring back through smiles in the pinned picture. “You were fat.”

“I wasn't fat, it’s chubby.”

“Same.”

“and the chubbier, the cuter”

“That's’ not how the saying goes”

Haechan scoffs as the takes the picture off. “Mark, everything I say becomes a saying.” He says as a matter of fact, and sit back next to Mark. “my knees are bruised here. Wasn’t that time where I saved you from that bully?”

“And now you are the bully,” Mark confirms. He smiles, nostalgic as if he’s an old man looking at the past far behind. He turns to look into Haechan’s eyes and finds his best friend. Those knee bruises are like a vow of friendship, or maybe more of a turning point. Mark used to hate Haechan, in fact , he used to hate troublemakers. Mostly because he was bad with trouble, even if he was perfect at everything. Bullying was alwso one of those rare thing young and shy Mark couldn't handle. Always scared it would escalate, so when it did one camp night between a tree and a taller but younger scout, Mark was _really_ scared. That's when Haechan, who always seem to be around Mark no matter what time of the day it was(always ready to jump in and annoy him), comes in right there. It was more of a territory fight between bullies than that of save the princess from the dragon, and it seemed like they shared a previous history of hatred. A fight breaks in the middle of the night just as the camp fire puts out. One scout ends up with bruised knees, the other with burns scars. Mark realized Haechan isn't bad, but just shows his fondness in different ways.

The memory fills up his chest. "Seems like I can't get enough of them."

"Seems like you can't get enough of me." Haechan smiles proudly at him, inches closer on the small sofa. Mark hates that dainty smile that seems so frail now that his friend is growing out his features. It's odd, to look at someone and see someone you know so well yet someone a little newer everyday. Mark can't help but wonder if sees him slightly odd like that too. Mark doesn't ask only looks back into his best friend’s eyes, fixed on his uniform over the picture, dripping with childish jealousy. “You already had _that_ much badges?”

Mark’s curiosity wakes. He joins Haechan by the back of his door. “Oh yeah,” he exclaims, squinting his eyes on the small space of his chest. “I'm surprised, too”

“Huh. Who does that anyway? You came in and bam! Got all those merit badges, became a star scout.”

“You could have, too, if you weren’t pranking me all the time.”

Haechan shines a small laugh, earthy, his eyes creasing in two shy moons. “Yeah. Now you only need the third courage badge to become an eagle scout.”

There's a pause, it’s Mark realizing Haechan’s words. “Right,” he says, eyebrows upwards, hint of a little surprise. He'll have to face one of his fears to obtain the last badge of his carrier as a scout. After that, Lucas' won't mock him for 'playing with kiddos' anymore. “Wow, times goes fast, man."

Haechan looks at him eagerly, curious and as equally excited for his upgrade. “Have you thought of the fear you’re gonna ‘face’?” He doesn’t know why he’s asking. Summer just passed, and Mark has plenty of time to think about the final mission he has to complete to earn his last ever badge. But Haechan still follows the flow of their conversation, ignoring the event that had befallen upon them the previous summer that's barely gone.

And Mark doesn't say anything about it. He complies and thinks about it, too. “Well,” contemplates, eyes flying all over his room in contemplation, “I could say you, but I’ve already come over that fear.” Haechan swats him. “What about you? We could do our mission together, you'll get your first courage badge so maybe we’ll upgrade together.”

“Well, that’s a good idea.”

“Yeah.”

“What I'm scared of? Huh?” Mark nods to himself. Already feeling the silence sleeping in, Haechan’s voice a little hint of lazy, cracking like firewood. He glances rapidly at the clock, it’s not late: 6pm and the sky outside mirrors the number, fresh darkness just threatening to fall.

“I'm scared of…” Mark wait for a response; But all he sees, is Haechan’s expression setting into neutrality then getting shaded with a shadowy undertone, and the lingering light by the window is still flickering broken morse code.

All he waited for was a response, maybe a joke along the line of ‘im scared of your cooking'. Anything, but something.

“Haechan?” He calls, but the other just turns his head opposite. The other is whispering periodically, but nothing is comprehensible enough to be heard. "Haechan", calls a tone lower, and the question that resonated at the doorway comes back to Mark. “What’s wrong?”

The outside light is becoming too obvious, a little annoying too, this flickering when he’s trying to concentrate on his friend. It’s not random, but flickering in even intervals now, like someone counting slowly.

“I’m scared,” Haechan says, voice low, simply trembling. He’s just turned opposite, but his voice seems so far away to Mark, who looks for more to the answer, but Haechan doesn't open any more. Between the silence and his hopeless look for answers, his trail of eyes finds Haechan’s hand, trembling against the sheet of his bed.

Maybe after what happened this summer, this wasn’t the best question to ask, he realizes.

“I'm…” he says, lips parting slowly. The periodical light is slightly flickering fast on his skin as if he wore his heartbeat on his face. It’s getting faster “I'm scared of…”

Then three things happen simultaneously. First, it’s Haechan’s phone buzzing with three messages. Then it’s the flickering light transforming into a burst of light as if exploding. Then it’s Haechan harshly turning his head towards the window, almost jumping, as if someone whispered the unnamed into his ear.

“What’s that,” the points at a space behind the glass, face frozen, eyes horrified.


End file.
